Trust
by Starzangel
Summary: The long-awaited sequel to 'Marooned' - you do remember that fic, right? Jack is trying to recover, only his demons aren't ready to let him alone just yet... Can Anamaria gain his trust? COMPLETE
1. Phantoms of the Mind

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Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, none of _Pirates of the Caribbean_ is mine. I only borrowed the concept and characters to have fun (but gain no profit) writing this story, which _is_ mine.

Archive: If you're not FanFiction.Net, then please ask first via submitting a review (leave your email address & I'll get back to you - and most probably say "Aye!").

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Author's Note: This is a sequel set right after my story 'Marooned'. It would help if you've read 'Marooned' first, as then you'll know exactly what Jack has just been through.

However, I'm hoping this fic will just about stand alone. Nonetheless, to recap - 

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What happened in 'Marooned':

About a month after the events of 'The Curse Of The Black Pearl' a fierce storm threw Captain Jack Sparrow overboard. Stranded on an all too familiar "godforsaken spit of land", the injured pirate captain spent the night with only haunting memories and nightmarish hallucinations for company. Anamaria and Gibbs found him in the morning, burning up with fever. Jack's temperature was dangerously high for a while, but eventually it dropped and the worst was over.

Or is it? The infamous pirate may be healing physically, yet what kind of state is his mind in? 

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Pirates of the Caribbean:

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Trust

by

Starzangel

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Part One: Phantoms of the Mind

In the mist somewhere between waking and sleeping, Captain Jack Sparrow heard shouts from the _Black Pearl_'s top deck. He couldn't tell what his crew was yelling about, but he could just make out the closer tense voices outside his shut cabin door.

"Bring the ship hard t'port, now!" Anamaria's voice ordered, sharply.

"Should I inform the cap'n, ma'am?" a male voice asked.

"No!" she replied, furiously. "You fool! Get back on deck!"

Both their voices left with their hasty footsteps. . .

.

The air was thick with chill and fog that slowly soaked into Jack's shirt, as he stood on the_ Black Pearl_'s plank. Behind him the foreboding dark shadow that was Isla de Muerte loomed. In front of him above the heads of the crew, the dim morning sun was kept back and smothered by the heavy layers of cloud. Cold black waves churned below the narrow board of wood under his feet.

"I really had hoped we were past all this," Jack said, facing his mutinous first mate.

"Jack, Jack," Barbossa jeered, wrapping a mock-friendly arm around Jack's shoulders and turning him to face the dark, rocky island. "Did ya not notice? That be the same little island we made you governor of on our last little trip."

"I had noticed." Jack winced at the sight.

Suddenly, a lone but loud voice spoke up, "This isn't right."

Jack turned carefully in his precarious position to see Will Turner stepping forward.

"I'll deal with ye later, whelp!" Barbossa spat, glowering at Bootstrap Bill's son.

"It's not by the Code!" Will protested, but the men dragged him back and gagged him.

The mutinous first mate turned to Jack and her grin slid back into place.

"Perhaps you'll be able to conjure up another miraculous escape. But I doubt it," Anamaria said, raising her sword to his throat. "Off you go now, Jack. Take a swim."

"Last time you left me a pistol with one shot."

"By the powers, you're right." Anamaria lowered her blade. "Where be Jack's pistol? Bring it forward."

Gibbs broke out of the gathered crowd of crewmen and handed her Jack's effects. Anamaria smiled cruelly as she cocked the pistol and raised it, aiming between Jack's eyes.

Jack fought against the tight bonds around his wrists, causing the rough rope to dig further into his flesh. Dizzying waves of panic rose within him and widened his eyes, as he stared past the gun barrel and into Anamaria's emotionless dark eyes.

The pistol's trigger clicked. . .

.

"Jack. . . ?"

Captain Jack Sparrow's dark-brown eyes opened, slowly dropping the last vestiges of sleep. There was someone leaning over him. . .

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Anamaria!

His pupils sharply dilated and he half sat up, bolting backwards and whacking his already sore head against the ornate headboard. The little colour he'd had, drained from his face and he stared at his first mate with something akin to terror.

"J-Jack?" Anamaria cautiously moved forward again, having jumped backwards in shock. "Jack, it's ok. You were dreaming. It's me, Jack. It's Anamaria."

Concern filled the female pirate's face. She dreaded to think what he had endured while stranded on that island. His belongings had been scattered all over it, indicating that he hadn't found shelter and stayed put. When they had found him in the morning, he had been in the throngs of a raging fever with a bleeding gash on his forehead.

Jack Sparrow must have taken a step into Hell that night.

"Sorry." he muttered, relaxing and gradually gaining control of himself.

She reached forward to press a hand against his forehead and he unintentionally flinched at her touch.

"You're a little hot . . ." she said, worriedly. "Do you feel feverish?"

"Maybe. . ." he replied, vaguely, his thoughts obviously elsewhere. "What time is it?"

"Just after midday."

"Are we still on course?" His eyes were fixed on her face and his expression unreadable.

"Yes," Anamaria assured him. "We haven't altered course since we picked you up from that island yesterday morning."

"You're lying," he said, softly.

"What?!" Anamaria sharply moved back, staring at him with astonishment and outrage.

"I heard you order the ship hard to port," Jack told her, his words carved from bitter ice.

"Only to avoid passing another ship!" she cried, her hands on her hips. "I hardly thought it right to go looking for trouble without my captain on deck."

"I couldn't have stopped you. . ." was the weak mutter from the pirate captain, as his head slid back down to his pillow.

"Jack, what's got into you?" Anamaria asked, concerned, sitting down on the edge of his bed. "What's wrong?"

"On the island. . ." Beads of sweat broke out on Jack's brow, catching fragments of the sunlight that drifted towards the darker side of the cabin where he lay. "I saw. . ."

"What did you see on that island, Jack?" Anamaria pressed, gently but urgently.

"Barbossa. . ."

"Barbossa's dead," she pointed out, quietly.

"I know. That's what Will said. . ." Jack's ashen features contorted with mental pain and his knuckles bleached as he clutched the bed's sheets in his fists. "Oh God! He thought I killed her!"

"Who? What are you talking about?"

"Elizabeth," he rasped in reply, his voice strained by his distress and the heat rising in his body. "I. . . she. . . None of it was real, I know, but it seemed so real. . .I didn't know. . ."

"You were dreaming? Hallucinating?" Anamaria frowned, trying to piece everything together.

Jack nodded, dazedly. "Barbossa. . .Barbossa, he said you. . .you wouldn't come! He, he. . . mutiny. . . wouldn't come!"

"Easy, Jack, easy. It's ok," Anamaria soothed, wiping a damp cloth over his forehead. "I did come for you. I will always return for you, Jack, always."

His soulful eyes desperately searched her face, fighting to keep back the fever.

She took hold of his hand. "Do you remember when we first met? Jack, ten years ago, do you remember?"

"Aye. . ." His weak fingers gently squeezed hers.

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To be continued. . . 

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AN 2: Ah, it feels good to be back to angst after my little break. And, oh, I've sure jumped back into the thick of it, eh? Hehe! I hope you've enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I did writing it!


	2. Remember Me

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AN 1: Thank you very much for the reviews!

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Rosemary the Rubix Cube - Hehe! I like your name! :) I'm glad you like the angst (as there's more to come!).

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Bootlaces - Yeah, there's no way Jack would share his thoughts like that on a normal day. (Poor guy...look what I've done to him!) You'll be glad to know that I haven't used the word "soulful" at all in Part 2, though I have used a more longwinded way of saying it once. . .

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Jackfan2 - I'm glad you're enjoying it. Your reviews give me so much encouragement; I swear I wouldn't have written as many fics without your support! Thank you!

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Yakkorat - Thanks a million for all of your reviews to my stories! I agree with your point about the forth part of 'Condemned'. The POV in the dreams does get muddled, particularly the Barbossa one. Whoops!

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Highlitergrl - I'm glad you like it. I have a thing for Jack/Ana fics too. . .as you might have guessed! :)

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Cal - Your review was wonderful! It's so nice to know that my writing is creating the emotions I intend at the right time.

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Otherhawk - Thank you for the review! I'm glad you like it!

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Tanya - Thank you! I aim to please!

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Blue Wolf2 - Thank you very much for your reviews! I'd like to write another "quiet" Jack/Ana one-shot like 'After The Curtain Has Dropped' & 'I Love The Way You...', but don't have any ideas at the moment. I expect something will come to me eventually, though.

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Anaticulapraecantrix - I'm glad you liked 'Marooned' and are enjoying this one as well!

Hopefully you'll all enjoy this chapter too!

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Part Two: Remember Me

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Their thoughts drifted a decade into the past to a little Jamaican cove. . .

Late in the august of 1718, under the watch of only the stars shining bright in the clear night sky, a girl hurried away from a sleeping town towards the sound of the waves crashing against the cliffs. She ran over the grass guided only by the silver light of the moon, holding up her long dark-blue skirt with one hand and an empty lantern rattling in her other. In minutes she had reached the ragged edge of the land and was looking down into the dark cove below.

The girl swung her legs over the side and quietly dropped down to a narrow rock ledge. In the gloom, she quickly lit the lantern and began to descend the cliff via an unmarked path that could only be followed by those who knew it. Her scuffed ankle-length boots struggled to keep a hold on the loose stones as her excitement quickened her pace down the jagged rock face, which was strewn with sprigs of hardy weeds.

Eventually the deep voices of the returned rumrunners drifted up on the light wind to her ears and then soon the ship itself was in sight, anchored in the still waters deep in the cove. The sound of Jerade calling out orders to the other men made the girl hurry all the more. Her stumbling increased with her dangerous haste and twice her breath caught in her throat as she slipped, narrowly missing a long fall to the dark waves. It was miraculous that she made it down to the small hidden beach at all, let alone with no more damage than a few small scratches.

Pausing to catch her breath, she smoothed down her skirt, brushed sand from her plain blouse and ran her fingers through her long dark hair. Then she walked away from the cliff towards the smugglers unloading the jolly-boats they'd rowed to the shore.

She spotted Jerade amongst them and called out to him.

"Anamaria!" he greeted her, grinning widely.

It wasn't until Jerade set down his end of the crate he carried and stepped forward to greet Anamaria, that she noticed the comparatively short and spindly figure previously hidden behind his thickly muscled body.

The unfamiliar young man looked to be no more than a few years older than her and had thick, dark hair that hung loose just above his shoulders, kept out of his eyes by a red bandanna. He looked up and his eyes met hers. The connection was only for a second, but it was enough for her to be struck by the sadness in those bright portals to his soul, before he quickly turned his head away. A single strand of beads in his hair caught the moonlight as he moved to unload something else. He walked back to the boats in such a bizarre swaying fashion that she didn't realise until after that he'd travelled in a straight line.

Jerade noticed her attention had been caught by something behind him and glanced over his shoulder with a frown. However, his expression cleared once he realised she was staring at the strange man who was an understandable distraction.

He cupped Anamaria's head with a large, rough-skinned hand and kissed her on the lips, forcing her full attention back to him. Her passion for him that had caused her to risk her neck down the cliff face returned and she ran her hands over his tangled reddish hair. He backed her against a stack of crates and the bottles clinked against each other as their containers were jostled. Jerade laughed and plastered kisses down her trembling neck, as she pressed him closer.

A thickset but nervous smuggler approached the stack and, attempting to be inconspicuous, removed the top crate from behind Anamaria's head. Jerade laughed again and slapped the other man on the back. With his arm still draped over her shoulders, Jerade moved to the side of Anamaria, deciding that perhaps it wasn't the time or the place for them to greet each other properly.

"We've got a new man," Jerade told her, nodding towards the loon she had noticed moments ago and he had since made her forget.

Anamaria learned from Jerade that the man had been found on an island they used as a cache, passed out from too much liquor with a pistol clutched in his hand. He went by the name of Jack Sparrow and claimed to be a marooned captain of a pirate ship called the _Black Pearl_. They'd managed to bring him around with difficulty, and then agreed to take him with them to Jamaica on the accord that he would work for them until they considered his debt to them to be repaid.

Intrigued by the mysterious pirate captain, Anamaria had secretly sought him out late the next night. 

She left Jerade asleep in the bed they had just shared at the inn and wandered out into the empty street wondering where she might find this so-called Captain Jack Sparrow. The Sailor's Rest sign squeaked on its hinges above her and a dog barked somewhere near the hills. As always her eyes were drawn away from the town to the moonlit darkness that held the sea. If she strained her ears, she could just hear the waves hitting the rocks.

Suddenly, she knew where she would find Jack Sparrow.

He stood at the cliff edge staring wistfully out to sea and lost deep in thought. There was a bittersweet smile dancing at the edge of his lips and in his eyes, as if he had just discovered a wonderful secret.

He spoke to her, causing her to start, for she'd thought he hadn't noticed her arrival.

"Do y'know what a ship is, love?" he asked her, his accent speaking of an English upbringing followed by many years at sea.

His dark-brown eyes turned to look at her, wondering how far off she was from knowing his secret. When she merely continued to silently stare at him, he brought his hands into action to colourfully illustrate his words, as he tried to lead her to the right answer.

Understanding perfectly, she smiled and cut him off with a one-word answer: "Freedom."

Pleasant surprise had widened his charcoal-edged eyes and he smiled, revealing a few gold-capped teeth.

She had then taken him down to where her little boat was docked and together they had sailed out into the Caribbean Sea. They had played the game Anamaria referred to as "The Horizon Chase", which involved nothing more than idly heading for where the sky met the waves, until land or ship appeared and then changing direction and sailing on towards where the horizon was empty. Sometimes they talked, sometimes they laughed, sometimes they were silent and merely stared out across the waves, all the while the wind filled the wide white sail and propelled the boat through the water. It wasn't until the sun had fully risen that they returned to the shore.

A friendship verging on more had followed, leading to several skirmishes between Jerade and Jack, when Anamaria's lover grew angered by the attention she and his worker paid each other.

Anamaria's father didn't approve of the pirate spending time with his youngest daughter, who was only one year out of her teens, either. Jack would often drop by to visit Anamaria while she was working at the boat maintenance and supplies shop belonging to her father, and the old man took every opportunity to vocally show his detestation for Jack. If he had known about Jerade, perhaps he would have been slightly more supportive of her relationship with the pirate captain. However, he didn't and so declared the unscrupulous young man unfit company for Anamaria, claiming he encouraged her "wild ways", unaware that she didn't need much encouragement.

However, it wasn't the opposition from others that stopped the two of them from getting emotionally intense. In fact, the opinions of Jerade and Anamaria's father phased them very little. Anamaria had had a faint awareness of what could form between them, but Jack refused to get truly close and she wasn't too keen about nurturing something that had the potential to become so strong either. He would back off and she wouldn't chase him.

Jack Sparrow told Anamaria very little about himself, but would happily listen to her and, being more carefree in those days and he so quietly compassionate, she would willingly confide in him. It was this that saved her life once.

Anamaria had always been brave, daring and able to look after herself. These traits had been enhanced by the death of her mother when she was only five years-old. However, although the tragic event had strengthened her, it had also given her the one huge weakness she had. It had taken years for the nightmares to stop their regular visits, yet still they returned every so often.

One warm evening, after Jack had arrived back from a short trip with the other rumrunners, he and Anamaria had gone out in her boat. They sailed to a little beach of pure white sand, which could only be reached by the sea, as they occasionally did. They ate fish cooked over a campfire and then sat together to watch another splendid sunset of red and gold. 

When the last remnants of day had gone, Anamaria rested her head in Jack's lap. His willowy fingers idly played with her hair and hers drew images of nothing in the pale sand. The flames that had eagerly reached for the sky were now fewer in number and content to dance along the remains of the firewood. Feeling safe and content, Anamaria didn't fight the weight that pulled down her eyelids and unwittingly embraced the approaching dream.

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Golden dragons ran along the rug on the floor and leapt up at the wooden walls until they gained a footing. They then raced each other up to the ceiling where they formed a blazing sea. Thick, black smoke plumed from them, stinging her streaming eyes and choking her with each breath she took.

"Mommy! Mommy!" she shrieked, clutching her bedsheets to her.

Golden pixies jumped up and skipped along the edges of her bed. Another person's screams had joined her own. But they were wordless screams of terror and agony from someone she couldn't see. Her mother's screams.

A figure fought through the smoke and fire to get to her and strong arms lifted her up and carried her out of the burning inferno that had been her family's home.

The night air was fresh on her cheeks and cold in her lungs. But her unseen mother was still screaming when the house's burning roof fell in.

"Mommy!_"_

"Anamaria, wake up! Anamaria!"

Anamaria's crying eyes opened and her friend's concerned face came into focus. "Jack? Oh, Jack!" she cried, both in relief and pain.

"Shh, shh, it's ok," he soothed, brushed the rapidly falling tears from her cheeks. "It was just a nightmare, love. It wasn't real."

She sobbed harder at the irony of his words. "But it was! It was real!"

"It might have seemed that way, but - "

"No, Jack. It did happen."

She went on to tell him everything that the dream had so cruelly brought back to her in horrific clarity. He had listened, and held her close to him until the sun came up and the daylight dried her tears.

Then, a few weeks later and about four months after the rumrunners had first returned with Jack in tow, there was an accident in the inn that sent it roaring rapidly up in flames. There had been time for everyone to escape and everyone had, except Anamaria.

The familiar untamed dragons grew in number and encircled her, breathing out their choking smoke. They were joined by the golden wild pixies that danced a taunting jig around her, as she remained frozen. Her fear constricted her chest and she barely drew breath.

Jack had arrived belatedly on the scene and ran through the gathered crowd and coughing escapees in the street, searching desperately for Anamaria. Panic raced through his blood as the fire broke through one of the inn's windows and he still hadn't found her.

He grabbed Jerade by the arms. "Where is she? Where's Anamaria?" he screamed at the larger man.

The anger that had become accustomed to always fill Jerade's features whenever he saw the young pirate "captain" instinctively took hold. Then he looked confused as Sparrow's words sunk in. He looked around him and concern finally settled on his face, as he realised he didn't know where his girlfriend, who had been with him in the inn, was.

"Anamaria! Has anyone seen Anamaria?" Jerade shouted, pushing his way through the other townsfolk and looking over their heads in search of his dark-haired girl.

However, Jack was already running towards the burning inn.

Two more windows blasted outwards, knocking him to the ground and showering him with hot glass. He got straight back up and kicked the flame-licked door in, narrowly missing the gush of heat and flame that burst out into the fresh air.

"Anamaria?" he called, loudly, peering into the smoke-thick interior.

He received no answer. 

Covering his nose and mouth with a hand, Jack made his way into the inn. His eyes attempted to keep clear of ash by flooding with tears, making it even harder for him to see. He irritably wiped at them and tried to find a way through the burning furniture.

He lowered his hand and shouted again, his voice now hoarse, "Anamaria!"

Anamaria still didn't reply, but he caught sight of her. She stood motionless not far from the bar, her eyes wide and full of terror.

"_Anamaria!_" he cried, choking on the smoke and fighting against the flames to get to her.

A bottle on the burning table to his left exploded and the rum caught alight at once, blasting scorching heat at him.

"_Ana!_"

His voice finally got a response from her and her eyes flicked towards him. Her smoke-filled throat tried to form his name, but failed.

There was fire all around her that reached out towards Jack with burning fingers when he approached. The lowest point was an overturned burning chair. He backed up the little way that the fire would let him, ran and jumped.

The flames hungrily stretched up for him as he passed over them and he landed beside Anamaria. She all but fainted into his arms. He lifted her up and kicked away the burning chair to make a path. He ignored the flames that had jumped from the chair onto his clothing and carried Anamaria out of the blaze as quickly as he could.

Jack stumbled out into the street and laid Anamaria safely down on the grass. He smothered the burning edges of his clothing with sand, as his lungs tried to accept the fresh air. He choked and coughed on the smoke that filled his airways, gasping for breath in between. Kindly hands tried to help him, but he pushed them away and crawled to Anamaria's side.

"An-" A violent cough racked his chest. "Anamaria?" he finally managed to rasp, his black-smudged fingers only worsening instead of clearing the soot smeared over her cheek.

Her trembling hands reached for him and fresh tears streaked her face. She coughed as she unsteadily sat up and he pulled her into an embrace.

"Ana," he whispered, hoarsely, with his face buried in her hair. "I love you."

After Anamaria had been taken home by her father and Jack had retired to his longings near the docks, they didn't see each other for two days. Finally he dropped by at her father's shop and the only signs that anything out of the ordinary had recently passed were the small bandages that covered their few minor burns. They jested with each other and worked on the boats, the fire was only mentioned in passing and neither made even the faintest reference to the words he had spoken when emotions had run high after the crisis.

Three days later he had left without a word to her, as she'd always known someday he would.

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Ten years after, with them both older and supposedly wiser, there had been their first brief meeting in Tortuga. It had started rather badly with both of them using bravado to cover up any true emotion they felt, followed by an unnecessary show of strength and independence that lead to a fight involving the whole tavern, and ended with him secretly taking her boat in the dead of night.

Then had come the night he returned to Tortuga with Will Turner and she had joined the crew Gibbs assembled on the docks the next day. Jack had given her ownership of his commandeered British Navy ship as a replacement for her lost boat that he had "borrowed without permission", also known as stolen. Anamaria had the pleasure of her Interceptor_ for a short period of time before Jack and Will's quest resulted in her ship being sunk by Barbossa and them all nearly getting killed. Soon after, she'd had Jack's beloved _Black Pearl_, until her conscience and the knowledge that the special ship herself wanted only one man as her captain, made her change course to (with help from Will Turner and Elizabeth Swann) save Jack from Port Royal's noose and give him his ship._

Ten years had passed since the friendship they had had for those four months in their youth. Fate had brought them back together and it was now up to them to decide what happened next.

TBC. . . 

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AN 2: I rowed quite far out from the shore and gave Anamaria and Jack a past. The film only gives us the fact that Jack took Anamaria's boat to Port Royal and her hands lingered on his shoulders at the end. So, I guess we can make up whatever we like (or at least until the sequel tells us differently!).

I hope that you like my idea. Please, let me know what you think.


	3. A Star To Steer By

AN: Thank you so much for the reviews! 

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Rat -Yeah, Jack sure isn't "stable at the moment"!

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Bootlaces -Um. . .I hate to tell you this but I've used "soulful eyes" again. . . *backs up & hides behind dining room table*. . .it just fit so well! It was necessary, honest! ;)

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Yakkorat -Yes, I could have written a better start to the fire scene. Naughty me for rushing! How's chapter 3 of 'Do As I Say, Not As I Do' coming along? Will you be updating soon? I hope you will be!

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XtineSparrowDepp -I hope you like this next (& last) chappie too!

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Blue Wolf2 - Jack watching Anamaria. . .now that's a good idea. . .I'll see what I can do!

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Anaticulapraecantrix -I'm glad you like my past for Jack and Anamaria!

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Cal - I'm planning to write a more detailed account of Jack and Anamaria's meeting in Tortuga sometime. Whether it'll be a story just about that or part of something else, remains to be decided.

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Jackfan2 - No need to apologise. Yep, I'd choose Jack over Jerade (or anyone like him) any day! They were both remembering the events of ten years ago. However, I wrote it in 'story' style rather than 'memories' style so that I could easily switch perspectives or write in 'neutral'. A lot of it is slightly slanted towards Anamaria's perspective, though. I used whatever I thought would allow me to get the most information across. The fire at the inn is mostly from Jack's perspective as in that scene Ana was pretty much out of it and so not taking much in.

Cheercheerbubblegum - I really like ROTK too (well, actually all three movies). Though, nothing beats PotC for me!

This is the last part to this story, so thank you to those of you who have reviewed or will! 

Take care and happy writing/reading!

~ Starzangel ~

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Part Three: A Star To Steer By

"Trust me, Jack, trust me. . ." Anamaria repeatedly murmured her plea, as she wiped a damp cloth over her captain's scorching forehead.

His eyelids flickered over his glazed eyes until finally closing.

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Captain Jack Sparrow stood on the top deck of the _Black Pearl_. His crew bustled about to carry out their duties, but always left a noticeably clear circle around him. The sun beat mercilessly down and the Caribbean Sea glared back the light like a giant mirror.

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"Mutiny," whispered the wind in the rigging; _"Mutiny,"_ whispered the sea against the hull; _"Mutiny,"_ whispered the voice in his mind.

Cold fear resided in his gut and reached up with snaking hands to clutch his chest. He didn't want to be a captain without a ship again. He couldn't lose the _Black Pearl_ again. He couldn't.

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"Mutiny. . .mutiny lies on the horizon, Captain_ Jack Sparrow. You know you can see it."_

He shut his eyes tight in response.

"Nice place ya got 'ere, Jack," the familiar rasp of Barbossa told him.

Jack opened his eyes to find himself stood in a structure made from pure white stone. It looked like a fully-restored version of the Ancient Greek temples he had seen in Athens. Columns rose to the heavens and supported the roof, and steps led up to a tall chamber containing a throne of solid gold, draped in red velvet. The name 'Captain Jack Sparrow' was etched into the stone of the arched entrance to the room and inlaid with gold.

Barbossa stood beneath the archway, taking gold coins from the people that brushed past Jack to go up the steps and lay out various gifts in front of the throne.

"But I wonder," Barbossa said, mock-thoughtful, moving down the steps towards the astonished Jack, "will it hold up against the weather?"

The mutinous pirate put his arm around Jack's shoulders and spun him around.

Jack found himself stood on the grass surrounding the temple and Barbossa approached the grand building with a tin jug full of water. The older pirate poured the liquid over a low wall, as if watering a potted plant, and watched in gleeful fascination while the white stone crumbled like sand.

Jack could only watch in horror as the sky darkened, bringing torrents of rain that lashed down onto his beautiful temple. The water crushed it like it would a giant sandcastle built by a child on a beach. Barbossa's cruel laughter sounded above the booming of the storm clouds.

The rain passed and Jack was left alone on the beach of a deserted isle, no sign of the temple remained. He was running across the stand, stumbling and whirled his arms about in a desperate attempt to move faster.

Behind him in the calm turquoise waters that lapped against the shore were three rowboats with his buccaneer crew in. They waved madly and called to him, working Cotton's parrot up into an excited frenzy, but he kept running away.

He heard the splash of someone jumping out of one of the boats and into the shallow water. Steps hurried up to the dry sand and then stopped.

"Jack," Anamaria's voice shouted, "don't run!"

Surprise passed over Jack's features and he stopped running. He turned to see his first mate standing on the beach. The breeze pulled her long dark hair away from her pretty face and fond memories called to him.

He took a step towards her.

Suddenly, Barbossa jumped in front of him.

"No!" he growled, his yellow eyes wide with anger, and his monkey shrieked in concordance.

The monkey leapt from Barbossa's shoulder aiming for Jack's neck, baring his teeth.

An instinctive scream rose from Jack's throat.

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The pallid form of Captain Jack Sparrow bolted upright, straight into the arms of Anamaria.

Sat on the edge of his bed, Anamaria held him tight against her. She could feel the rapid beating of his heart against her own chest and felt the trembles that ran through his whole body.

His skin was blessedly cool and, gradually, his breathing became slow and steady and strength seemed to surface in him. He raised his face from her shoulder and leaned back to survey her face. His dark-brown eyes fondly lingered over her features and his fingers reached up to touch her cheek.

She read all she needed to know in his soulful eyes and felt both relief and an unexpectedly surge of joy.

A warm smile curved Jack's lips.

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~ Fin ~


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